


Show Off

by Lhugy_for_short



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Anal Sex, Angst and Fluff and Smut, CW - casual encounter (Lib/Tredd), Eventual Romance, Jealousy, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Oral Sex, they just don't know it yet, two idiots in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:34:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27337981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lhugy_for_short/pseuds/Lhugy_for_short
Summary: Nyx means the world to Libertus, he always has. Everyone can see that. But while the sudden turn their relationship is taking seems too good to be true, the risk is even greater. Libertus needs some time to work out his feelings - while Nyx seeks out attention from just about every other guy in town.
Relationships: Libertus Ostium/Nyx Ulric, Libertus Ostium/Tredd Furia
Comments: 3
Kudos: 9
Collections: FFXV Rarepair Big Bang 2020





	1. The Hero's Welcome

**Author's Note:**

> My contribution to the Rare Pair Big Bang! Thank you to the mods for running this event, and a big shout out to Bee for gorgeous companion art!!

It had always been something of a dream of his, owning a pub. Yet the joy of it wasn’t in having his name on a building, or getting rich enough to move to Insomnia like so many of his brethren had. Honestly, the place barely made enough to stay afloat most nights. It wasn’t even about ‘bringing the community together,’ or whatever chocobo shit the newspapers had printed about him when he’d first opened the place. 

No, for Libertus, the pub was about  _ family. _

Growing up in war-torn Galahd had afforded few luxuries to his generation. Homes had been destroyed in the bombings when Niflheim attacked, families torn apart after the invasion split the city. Hells, Libertus himself had barely been old enough to walk when his parents got taken away. But his story wasn’t any different from the hundreds of other kids who’d grown up, like him, on the streets of the city. Who’d learned to fend for themselves, to fight when necessary, to survive. 

Who had, out of a deep-seeded hatred of the Empire, jumped at the first opportunity for revenge. The ‘Lost Kids’ of Galahd traded in their rags - and the last of their innocence - for sleek, black uniforms the day they joined King Regis’ Glaives.

Yet that, too, felt like a lifetime ago now. The war had ended, as most eventually do. Independence had been restored to Galahd, and many of the survivors had returned home to start over. ‘Family’ had come to mean something different after that. It meant a shared history, understanding without words. It meant trust. 

And to Libertus, looking out over the freshly polished bar counter of the  _ Hero's Welcome _ , he found it also meant the sound of laughter he knew by heart. 

An empty glass waving suddenly in his line of sight drew him back to the moment. Crowe Altius, with her dark hair tugged back in a messy bun and her boots kicked up on the table, whistled again for his attention. “Hey, you daydreaming over there again, Lib?”

“Yeah, man,” a tipsy Pelna added as he swayed against her. “We’re gettin’ mighty thirsty over here.” 

Libertus’ face stretched into a grin that mirrored his friends’. He balled up the rag he’d been using to wipe the counter, and weighed it in his palm. “I’m not the only one workin’ tonight, assholes. I think it’s someone else’s turn to pour the drinks this time.” Right on cue, the rag launched across the room to smack wetly against the head of the third and final figure at the table. The one who’d been sitting with his back to the bar, and his feet crossed leisurely on the empty chair across from him. 

Nyx peeled the offending rag off of his neck. Twirled it expertly around with his fingers for a few beats, before turning steel grey eyes on Libertus in turn. “No can do, boss. Still on my break, ten more minutes.” 

“Break, my ass,” he muttered, just loud enough for Nyx to hear. He brushed off the inappropriate smirk he was awarded for his efforts. But even reaching under the bar for more glasses, it was harder to ignore  _ Crowe _ . More specifically, the look she was shooting him. A look Libertus had seen a hundred times by now, a mix of both amusement and exasperation concealed within soft brown eyes. 

A look that said she  _ knew _ . 

Slowly, still watching him unblinking, she brought her middle finger up to her cheek, twisted it in a lock of dark bangs, and pointed it less than subtly at Nyx. The message was clear.

_ Wrapped around his damn finger _ , Libertus sighed. 

_ Don’t I fuckin’ know it.  _

* * *

The pub’s “official hours” were whenever its only two employees got there to whenever everyone decided to go home. Which, on that particular evening, happened to be around three in the morning. 

Nyx had spent the better part of that time drinking, as usual. There was a noticeable a-rhythm to his steps as he sauntered to the front door. A slur to his words when he wished their friends a good night. So Libertus (also as usual) handled the cleaning up by himself. Not that he minded, really. The  _ Hero’s Welcome _ was his responsibility; Nyx had only started helping him out on their busier nights, and whenever he didn’t have other plans. If Nyx mostly used it as an excuse to relive those days hanging out all together around Insomnia's lower streets after duty, well, Libertus couldn’t really blame him. 

And, more selfishly, hiring Nyx even part-time meant making sure he stuck around, too. It meant quiet moments behind the bar together before they opened the doors. It meant bickering and goofing around like they’d always done, just the two of them. As if Libertus could somehow hold onto the memories they’d had, preserve them for old time’s sake. He couldn’t remember having a life without Nyx by his side, just as he couldn’t imagine ever losing him now. The fear of it was enough to keep him up more nights than he cared to admit.

Mid-thought, something tugging at the sleeve of his t-shirt dragged him back to the present. Libertus closed the door of the refrigerator he’d been wiping down, and found himself looking up instead into Nyx's cool, steely gaze mere inches from his face.. 

“Uhh…. You’re still here?” He blinked, masking his surprise with a default frown. He hadn't heard any footsteps approaching, and suddenly wondered if maybe he was losing his touch. “Couldn’t you find a cab?” 

“Eh,” came the vague answer. Nyx was still wearing his jacket, and the smell of leather and old smoke drifted off when he shrugged. “Just figured you might need some help in here.”

He didn’t, not really. But the offer was rare enough not to pass up, so he shoved a roll of paper towels into Nyx’s arms and gestured toward the tables. “Sure, uh, wipe down the benches? It’s bad enough the other customers have to sit anywhere your ass has touched.” 

Nyx’s sudden laugh was more of a glorified snort. On the way past, he teasingly bumped his hip against Libertus’ backside - or maybe he was just having trouble walking in a straight line. It was impossible to tell sometimes. “Yeah, right. The customers  _ love  _ my ass. Everyone does.” 

Though heat flared like fire to his cheeks, Libertus very pointedly did  _ not  _ allow his gaze to drift any further south. That would only encourage him. “ _ Pfft _ . Would you just get to work, already?”

“Why? Jealous?”

“You’re drunk, you idiot.” 

Whatever Nyx said in retort was lost to the sound of the motors in the ancient fridge whirring back to life. Just as well, Libertus sighed to himself. He knew Nyx meant no harm. Playful flirting after a few too many beers was the name of his friend's game, after all. Libertus had seen it enough times around the pub, whenever a flash of cleavage or a confident smile caught his straying eye. Nyx was good-looking, charming, and there was never a shortage of attention whenever he walked into the room. Who could blame him for thriving in the natural limelight? 

Yet, while he’d never admit it out loud, the truth was that Libertus _did_ get jealous. At least, some part of him did. A lifetime of growing up around Nyx hadn't made him immune to his powers of sexual persuasion - if anything, it had made him more accurately aware of their pull. 

It was the other part of him, though, the part that knew he was nothing but a damn fool, that made sure he kept his mouth shut. 

They finished cleaning the pub in silence, quickly wiping down the last of the grease and grime in a practiced routine. Libertus chucked his apron in a box by the fridge labeled ‘washing day,’ and flipped a switch to kill all of the lights except the security ones out back. He was already making for the parking lot when Nyx caught up with him at the staff door. 

“So, uh,” he started gracefully while Libertus fished around in his pocket for his keys. “I was kinda hoping...I could get a ride.”

“A ride?” Light blue eyes narrowed in suspicion. “What about a cab?”

The answer was another sheepish shrug.  _ No cash? _ Libertus wondered, filling in the blanks. Or maybe he just didn’t want to be on his own. How often, after all, had he seen Nyx stumble out of the bar hoisted up between Crowe and Pelna? Or, worse, with his arms around a new face, flashing smiles and batting those eyes he was so proud of? Going home alone just wasn’t really Nyx’s style. 

But neither was going home with _Libertus..._ right? "Just this once." He quickly hid his sour expression under his motorcycle helmet. “Get on, idiot.” 

He threw his leg over the familiar seat, and felt Nyx slide into place behind him. Arms wove around his waist, not too tight but still enough to take his breath away anyway. To distract him, even, if he was being honest. He wasn't really used to carrying passengers, least of all passengers he may or may not have harbored a  _ thing _ for. He could almost forgive himself for being a little out of his element. 

Beneath the seat, the engine revved loudly to life, and Libertus eased his bike toward the road before he could lose his focus entirely.

Blessedly, the ride to Nyx’s apartment was a just-barely bearable twenty minutes. By the time he pulled up in the quiet lot, the warmth of the body against his back had grown comfortable, as had Nyx’s head where it rested on the padded shoulder of his jacket. It was, he thought, a shame to have to shake him awake again. 

“Hey. We’re here.” Groggy, Nyx sat up straighter in the back of the seat. “You think you can make it upstairs?” 

“Mm? Yeah, yeah….” A stretch, and a yawn, and then Nyx was hugging against him again. “Maybe. On second thought, I might need some help.” 

To Libertus’ credit, he made a convincing show of being annoyed. “Hopeless. Come on, then, let me up.” 

He’d been to Nyx’s apartment enough times over the years to know the stairs up to his third floor room by heart. Even still, the way his friend kept falling into him, awkwardly leaning his weight so that Libertus had to constantly grip his waist to keep him upright, was an inconvenience to say the least. Perhaps, if he’d been paying more attention, he would have realized that Nyx wasn't at all this drunk back at the bar. Nor had he needed support to stand, despite the way he was now all but clinging to Libertus’ jacket sleeve, tighter and tighter with every step. 

At last, they came to a stop in front of the apartment door. Libertus turned. He was planning to make Nyx dig his keys out himself, no matter how much he complained about his head spinning. Yet, instead of the lopsided grin or sleepy smile he was expecting, Libertus was met full on with that mouth suddenly driving into his.

Nyx was balanced on his own feet again. His hands found Libertus’ waist above his belt, and the force of the rather shocking kiss drove him back-first against the apartment door. Blue eyes flew open wide. In a panic, he grabbed for the first thing his hands could reach - Nyx’s open jacket - and he pushed with as much strength as he could muster. 

It wasn’t much, but Nyx stumbled two steps back with a look of hurt stretching his face. “Dude?”

“Dude?! The  _ fuck _ , you idiot!”

“What’s your deal?”

“ _ My  _ deal?!” His heart was suddenly pounding, his face probably a deep red under the hall lights. Though his brain was still scrambling to process, his mouth, unfortunately, was ever at the ready. “What the hell are you tryin’ to do?”

“Kiss you?”

“ _ Why? _ ” 

He could have punched Nyx and still not gotten such a shocked look from him. “...Why?  _ Why? _ ” With a strained laugh, he raised his arms in the air. “ _ Six _ , Lib, and I thought  _ I _ was dense.” 

“You’re just drunk--”

“I’m  _ not _ .”

“You gotta be.” Libertus’ breathing was picking up. Panic had him tugging his jacket back into place and pushing past Nyx for the stairs. “See yourself in.”

“Lib, shit, man! Come on, I thought you wanted this!” 

Heavy boots on the metal stairs were the only answer Libertus could give. He could practically hear the alarm bells ringing in his ears, and it ached  _ \- gods _ , it ached to be walking away! But he couldn’t…. This was too sudden, and Nyx…. Nyx didn’t know what he was saying. This was just a game to him, wasn’t it? 

The sound of the bike engine roaring back to life drowned out whatever Nyx shouted from the railing. Libertus drove off into the empty night, unable to bring himself to look back. 


	2. Goin' Our Separate Ways

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Libertus gets some advice from his friends, and pays a visit to Nyx's new bar.

Five days. Five whole, agonizing days, and still he’d had no reply. 

Libertus supposed, all things considered, he couldn’t blame Nyx for ignoring him. He’d been a royal ass. A  _ fucking moron _ honestly, and he’d been kicking himself for it every waking moment since. What had happened on Nyx’s doorstep, how he’d reacted…. It had all gone so stupidly wrong. By now, he’d had more than enough opportunity to replay the scenario over and over in his head, dozens, if not  _ hundreds _ of times. And he thought that maybe he understood how he could have made it right. 

But that was assuming, of course, he ever got a second chance. For the past five days, every text he’d sent to Nyx - every apology, every attempt to explain himself - had been left on read. There were no replies, no  _ fuck off _ s or  _ take a hint _ s. Hells, he wasn’t even bothering to pick up his phone, which had Libertus as frustrated as he was concerned. Nyx had never ignored him for this long before. It terrified him to think that maybe, this time, it was for good. 

All because his dumb ass hadn’t been ready.

“Hey.”

Because he’d lost his nerve when it'd mattered most.

“Hey,  _ Eos to Libertus - come in Lib. _ ” 

Because he --

Crowe waved her hand in front of his face, crashing right through his train of thought like a slap back to reality. Back inside the  _ Hero’s Welcome _ , to the bar where he’d been standing motionless for the better part of twenty minutes. Again. 

“ _ There _ you are. I thought we’d finally lost you.” Though her mouth hung in a teasing smile, Crowe’s eyes were weighted with concern. They studied him carefully, looking for something only she knew how to find. “You’re not still trying to get a hold of Nyx, are you?”

“Psh, that bum doesn’t know what he’s missing,” Pelna added, sidling up next to Crowe at the bar and clinking his half-empty glass against her bottle. “Right, Lib? Who needs him.” 

“Y-yeah. Sure.” Quickly pocketing his phone (it hit like a lead weight in the back of his jeans), Libertus slipped a coaster under Pelna’s drink, and turned to grab a fresh beer for Crowe. She hadn’t asked, but he needed the distraction - even if it only bought him a few seconds before he could feel her eyes boring into him again. “Not like we’re busy tonight, anyway, y’know.” 

“We’ve been the only customers in here for an hour now,” Crowe, voice flat, reminded him. “Was kinda hoping you’d come keep us company, but….” 

Pelna slapped the bar counter for effect. “But we decided we’d bring the party to you instead.” 

“Thanks, guys. Really. But there’s no need, I’m fine.” 

“Sure. Totally believable.” 

“Shut it and drink,” he countered, his bark barely any worse than his bite. In fact, it did little more than stretch that grin of Crowe’s even wider, and as she passed her empty bottle across to him in exchange, her expression darkened. 

“When are you gonna tell me what  _ really  _ happened between you two?”

Libertus frowned, and reached to take her drink. She didn’t let go.

“This wasn’t just a fight. I’ve seen you and Nyx fight, plenty of times. This is...different.” 

“Crowe, drop it, alright?” 

She released the bottle with a smile that said she’d heard all she needed. Sitting back, she appeared content for the moment to sip her beer and gloat in some unseen victory.

In her stead, it was Pelna that took back up the mantle of conversation. “Anyway, if you need some help around the bar, let me know. I’ve got a couple of cousins looking for work. They're from up north a ways, good kids, hard workers.” 

“Titan’s  _ balls _ , Pelna, I ain’t replacing Nyx. He’ll be back, eventually. I just gotta...clear some stuff up first.” 

“Oh,” was all his friend said for a heavy minute. He seemed to hesitate, chewing the inside of his lip while he traced patterns into the condensation on his glass. A side look at Crowe, then back down at the counter, was the icing on the alarm bell cake. 

Libertus squinted his eyes. “...What?”

“What?” Pelna mirrored, blinking wide. 

“What’s that look for? What do you know that I don’t?” 

Again, their friend glanced desperately to Crowe for help, yet found no rescue there. At least not in time to save him before Libertus was there, towering in front of him over the counter. He folded his arms over his chest, adding to a look that could peel the paint right off the bar. 

“Hey, look, sorry, okay? I thought...you knew.” 

“Knew  _ what _ ?” Libertus pressed, anger - and concern - mounting with each passing second. 

“Well, y’know.” Pelna, sinking a little into his stool, continued to fidget with the glass between his hands. “I heard this from Luche, so don’t quote me on it, yeah? But he said he saw Nyx talking with the old Cap a few days ago.” 

Cap…? Libertus’ eyes went round with sudden understanding. “ _ Drautos _ ? That old son-of-a-sabertusk’s back in Galahd?!” 

A shrug. “Seems like it. Supposedly he took his retirement money and opened up a bar or something just outside of town.” 

“ _ Retirement _ ,” Crowe laughed darkly. “You mean the money King Regis paid him to get the fuck out of his palace.” 

Neither Libertus nor Pelna could argue with that one. Titus Drautos was a name that stirred up less than pleasant memories for all of them: a captain turned traitor, strife within their own ranks. Their days in the Kingsglaive may have been behind them, but the past was never far from catching up. 

And now, it seemed, Nyx himself was looking to defect. 

“Did Luche happen to say what our fearless ex-leader wanted with my best friend?”

If Pelna could read the danger in Libertus’ voice, the rage bubbling just beneath the surface of calm, he must have known there was no avoiding it now. “Well…. He apparently offered him a job.” 

“And?” 

“And...Nyx took it.” 

“Anak shit,” Crowe chimed in. “Why would he go work for that sorry excuse for a patriot when he’s got us right here?” 

“Look, if you don’t believe me, go talk to Luche. Or,” Pelna said with a finger pointed right at Libertus’ chest. “Go check out  _ Firaga _ for yourself. That’s the name of Drautos’ place. If Nyx is really there, you can ask him yourself.” 

Anything else they said was lost to the static. Libertus could still feel his phone weighing in his back pocket. Guilt, coupled now with regret.  _ He’d _ done this.  _ He’d _ driven Nyx away, pushed him to make stupid decisions in the face of what had amounted to rejection. All of this was  _ his _ fault, and unless he was willing to let Nyx walk out of his life forever, it was up to him to set it right. 

“I'm going," he announced, suddenly enough to catch both of his friends off guard. Crowe paused mid-jab to Pelna's side. 

"What, right now?" she frowned.

"Yeah. Right now. Bar's closing early tonight." 

"Aww, c'mon," Pelna, predictably, groaned in complaint. "Where are we supposed to drink tonight?" 

But Libertus was already untying his apron, and he had already thought of a solution for that. He grabbed a handful of beers from the fridge under the bar, and shoved them into his friend's hands. "Your couch, the park, wherever you want. These are on the house. Now get out, I've got business to take care of." 

The free beers quieted further protests. "Give 'em hell," Pelna said, encouragingly, As he scooped up his loot and headed for the door, likely in a hurry before Libertus could change his mind and put the drinks on his tab, Crowe rose to join him. Yet she couldn't quite leave without one last knowing look cast back in Libertus' direction. 

"Whatever happens," she smirked. "Don't you dare let him go this time." 

* * *

The engine of his bike slowed to an idle rumble beneath him. It had been a longer ride out here than Libertus remembered, all the way to the outskirts of the city where nothing but sparse street lights illuminated the flat, rocky landscape. Out here, far from the rivers and green cliffs around which much of Galahd had been built, it was easy to feel once again like a stranger in a strange land. 

But this  _ was _ home, more than Insomnia or the plains of Leide had ever been. And within the walls of the only building around for miles, he was hoping to find the one missing piece to bring it all together. And yet….

“Nyx... you idiot. What the hell were you thinking coming to a place like this?” 

Removing his helmet, Libertus took in a long, hard look at  _ Firaga _ , with its grungy, concrete walls, cracked parking lot, flickering neon lights. There were no windows along the front facade, surprisingly, at least not ones he could see into. The few narrow slits just beneath the awning, the only ones that might have otherwise passed, were covered by tough steel grates. 

Libertus scrunched up his nose. Just what the hell kind of bar was Drautos running out here? 

Yet despite the less-than-appealing exterior, the bar was clearly bringing in a fair share of customers. The parking lot of the  _ Firaga _ was full of cars, bikes like his, and even a few chocobos stabled off to the side. It was so packed, in fact, that Libertus had no choice but to leave his own ride parked along the side of the road. 

Fine, he wouldn't be here long, anyway. 

He settled his helmet on the seat, dropped his keys inside his jacket pocket, and did a double check in the side-view mirror. His hair was still a mess from work - the braids along the side were coming out in several places - and he thought he noticed a few extra worry lines drawn between his eyebrows. 

Hopefully, he thought as he grimaced at his reflection, it would be dark inside the bar. 

Whether or not he looked his best, though, it was finding his friend that mattered. Finding him, and then convincing him to come back.  _ Apologizing _ , of course, and whatever else it took to make Nyx see how much he missed him. Even if that meant getting down on his knees in front of the entire city to beg, so be it. 

Steeling himself for just such an eventuality, Libertus made his way toward the front entrance. Unassuming, plain, he thought little of grabbing the handle and yanking the door open on its hinges, prepared to go in after Nyx guns blazing. 

But no sooner had he done so than it hit him -  _ music _ . A rhythmic bassline booming so loud and so deep that the very floor vibrated under his boots. For a long moment, Libertus stood in the entrance as if stunned by a powerful spell. The shock of the music, coupled with the bright lights flashing in the room just beyond, left him rooted to the spot, and suddenly convinced that this was no mere bar after all. 

“Twenty five gil, plus fifteen for the drink. And I’m gonna need to see your pass, sir,” a woman Libertus couldn’t see shouted through the commotion. “If you wanna start a tab, you’ll need to leave your name and a credit card number with me.” 

His eyes darted frantically around in the shadows. “W-what? Who…?”

A sigh, somewhere to his left. He turned to face it as a small curtain opened and a silver-haired woman with a pen light thrust a tray at him. “No weapons or contraband allowed inside, leave your ID at the front, you can pick up on the way out,” she recited in a tone flatter than Gralean beer. “Questions?” 

Libertus blinked. Yeah, he had plenty of questions, but the words were still stuck somewhere in his throat, rumbling along with the booming bass. 

“This your first time, sir? Never been to this establishment before?” 

Quickly, he shook his head. 

“Just my luck. Fine, I’ll run you through the basics, alright?” The woman seemed to appraise him with a set of steely green eyes, tapped the pen against her lips, and sighed. “The twenty-five gil fee is for members only. It’s fifty for non-members, which means  _ you _ , and another fifteen for the first drink. That’s sixty-five total. You with me so far? Good. You pay the rest inside in cash only, and any transactions you make for services performed are considered non refundable.  _ Yada yada _ , you get the point.” 

Libertus did not, in fact, get any points. With every word the woman recited off to him, he grew more and more hysterically confused, and convinced that wherever he was, it was  _ not  _ where he was meant to be. Words like  _ transactions _ and  _ services _ were sending red flags up all over his prickling neck.

“Oh, and I can check the availability if you’re looking for anyone in particular.” 

_ That _ finally snapped Libertus out of his shock induced stupor. He leaned abruptly in toward the woman behind the counter, planting his hands on either side of the window between them. “Nyx! I’m looking for Nyx Ulric!” 

“Ulric, huh? Word really does travel fast up north.” There was something like amusement in the woman’s eyes as she once again looked him over from head to, well. Low enough that he was forced to take a step back from the counter. “Let me just take a look and…. Ah. You’re in luck, loverboy. Nyx’ll be up soon. Why don’t you go have that drink, and sit back for the show. Trust me, you won’t be able to miss it.” 

Show? Just what was that supposed to mean? And what was this about a  _ membership _ ? 

But Libertus reminded himself that none of that mattered right now. Nyx was here - the woman had just confirmed it - and he’d be damned if he let the first obstacle slow him down now. “Yeah, fine, fine. How much did you say it was?”

“Sixty-five,” she repeated, slowly and carefully and in as bored a tone as she could apparently manage. “And I’m gonna need your ID. Can’t be too careful, y’know?” 

It was steep for a cover charge, sure, but he dug into his wallet anyway and dropped the bills into her tray. It was just the once, after all, a small price to pay for messing up with Nyx in the first place. His ID, too, was slipped in with the money, and then the woman was flashing her pen light past him to a door on the other side of the narrow hallway. 

“Thank you for your patronage, sir,” she grinned, and he heard a lock whir open. Not risking a look back, Libertus shrugged off the last of his misgivings, and pushed forward into the bar proper. 

No, calling it a bar had definitely been a mistake. There was  _ a  _ bar, running along the length of the left wall and bustling with patrons. All of whom, Libertus noted without quite understanding the importance, were men. It was dimly lit behind the counter, where several workers made flashy drinks in pretentious glasses, showing off bar tricks with little passion. To him, who’d built his own place from the ground up with friends and dreams, this place reeked of  _ fake _ .

But more than the bar itself, the rest of the place was what caught his attention. As far as he could tell, the whole place seemed to be one single, oversized room organized into distinct areas. There was a lounge space with dark sofas and young face chatting in groups. Next to that, a DJ booth half-set into the wall, and suspended just above the crowds.

But the main attraction was the middle of the room, where the space opened up into what was obviously a dance floor judging by the mass of bodies moving to the pulsing beat. Nearby, more men crowded around a large platform surrounded by flashing lights. It branched out V-shaped into two wings, and each of those was topped with a narrow, silver pole.

Glinting like temptation, their images combined with the rhythmic music, the treatment he’d received at the door, and the suspicion that had been sinking deeper into his gut since he’d first stepped into this place, Finally, Libertus understood where he really was. 

_ Firaga  _ was a strip club. 


	3. An Arrangement of Sorts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So _this_ is what Nyx wanted.

He needed a drink. Screw that, he was going to need  _ several _ drinks if he was going to get through this in one piece. 

Slinking away from the crowds around the stage (there was no doubt now it could be anything else), Libertus backpedaled toward the bar for something, anything, with a semblance of familiarity. They had fancy beers in bottles he didn’t recognize. Imported, probably, so he opted instead for the only northern distilled whisky he could see on the shelf.

The first shot burned his throat, and cleared his senses. The second stoked the fire in his blood. This place, this  _ atmosphere _ , he thought as he scanned the crowd for signs of faces he knew. Everything about  _ Firaga _ rubbed him the wrong way. There was something impersonal about it, a place someone could come to forget, or be forgotten. Was that why Nyx was here? To replace the past with this new, nameless crowd? 

Libertus intended to find out the answer. 

“Hey, ‘scuse me,” he called out to one of the bartenders, a young, lean man with dark hair and a perpetual pout. His nametag read  _ Axis _ . “Can I ask you something?” 

The man reached for the empty shot glasses in front of him, but Libertus shook his head. “I’m looking for someone.” 

“Do I look like floor staff to you, sir? Get one of the dancers.” 

“What?” He scrunched up his nose in confusion. “N-no, I mean I’m  _ actually  _ looking for someone. A friend of mine. His name’s Nyx Ulric, d'you know him?” 

Whatever reaction he was expecting, it certainly wasn’t the dark smirk that spread from the bartender to the faces of most the patrons within earshot. One of them, a stout man to Libertus’ right, outright laughed. “Ulric, huh? You’ve got good taste, buddy.”

Libertus sneered. “What does  _ that  _ mean?” 

“Just what I said. A lot of us are here to see him tonight,” a second customer beside him nodded in agreement. “Get yourself another drink. Shouldn't be too much longer now.” 

"He sure does like to keep a thirsty crowd waiting, though."

"That's what the drinks're for, wise guy." 

The two if them continued to bicker, but Libertus had stopped listening. The music overhead had begun to fade to silence, and in its place, a voice that Libertus recognized from long ago and far away. 

Rough, deep. A voice better suited for shouting commands on a battlefield than crooning announcements in a strip club - though perhaps the latter fit the man himself. “He was once called a hero,” Titus Drautos boomed through the speakers. “A name you've all come to know and love. A face adored by his country, and an ass he claims is worth waiting for. Our next performer needs no introduction to get your tongues wagging, or your fantasies dripping  _ wet _ . Nyx...Ulric!”

Cheers went up before Libertus could even process all of that. Nyx’s name rung like an echo in his ears, or perhaps that was just the crowd getting worked up over the scene opening up on stage. Abandoning his drinks and the forgotten conversations at the bar, Libertus wedged himself into the crowd, pushed his way further and further in until he could get a clearer view. 

There was someone on the stage. Head bowed, back to the room, and yet Libertus didn’t need to see his face to know right away who he was. For a moment, he stood in shocked silence as the music resumed overhead, the new beat faster, more sensual this time, with bass that thrummed through his very core. 

“Nyx!” he shouted, trying to be heard over the crowd. But his voice fell short. “NYX!!” 

On the stage, Nyx turned. He’d heard his name, being picked up and chanted now by the adoring men in the crowd. Summoned by their praise and affection. He smiled, then. Wickedly, the corners of his mouth curved up in a dangerous smirk. It was a look Libertus has seen him wear once before, but only surrounded by the heat of battle. What...was he planning? 

Suddenly, without further warning, a blink-and-you'll-miss-it burst of motion. Nyx had whirled on the stage to face the crowd, and in the same movement that spanned one fleeting heartbeat, launched himself forward across it. They all sucked in a collective breath as he flew into the air-- 

\--and caught effortlessly onto the pole at the front of the platform. His legs, his entire body coiled cat-like around it, as momentum sent him into a perfect downward spin. 

Once again, the room came alive with cheering, whistling, feet stamping on the floor to shake the very walls of the club. Nyx drank it in for a moment, his camo-clad thighs gripping the pole and biceps bulging in a sleeveless Glaive-issue tee. The dogtags that hung loose from his neck glinted in the stage lights, completing the look. Military hunk, or cheap sell-out? Libertus was too busy picking his jaw up off the floor to make that call. 

_ No one _ in the crowd was immune to how good Nyx looked up there, least of all Libertus. He was practically entranced, mesmerized by the sight of his dearest friend stretching his arms back and arching off the pole like he was born to do it. Watching as he pulled that dark top off inch by agonizing inch, teasing his audience one flash of skin at a time. Once it was off, Nyx twirled his shirt in the air, flexed his muscles and rolled his hips with the music in a tempting rhythm.  _ Then _ he finally went for his belt. 

Libertus couldn’t turn away. He knew, somewhere in the back of his mind, that he shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t be watching Nyx undress for the entertainment of strangers. It was infuriating. It was nauseating. It had him getting rock hard in his pants.

Someone near the front raised their hand into the air, pinching a few bills for Nyx - and the rest of the crowd - to see. It took only a few heartbeats for Nyx to acknowledge him. To get down to his knees at the edge of the stage and smile while the man shoved his money right into the front of unbuttoned fatigues. Nyx made it look painfully easy the way he rolled his hips into that greedy contact, serving fingers that had paid for the privilege to touch. 

More hands and more gil went up. Libertus began to see red. He was too far to stop it, and even shoving his way forward he made little progress. Nyx, meanwhile, appeared to bask in the attention. Pants open to reveal the tight briefs underneath, his own body was reacting with fervor to the fingers that grazed his hips, his thighs, the evident bulge between them. And he took their gil, too, one by one, without a shred of hesitation or shame. 

“NYX!” Libertus roared, shoving through the throng. A few men turned to glare. “Nyx, stop!” 

If his friend heard him at all, he didn’t show it. Already he'd fixed his attention on a particularly large wad of cash being thrust in his direction by a drooling fan. The two exchanged words, too quiet for Libertus to hear, and the next thing he knew Nyx was eagerly hopping down from the stage. 

The crowd retreated to make room for him.  _ This  _ was still part of the show, after all, even if every pair of eyes on Nyx’s newest partner wished they could take his place. As one, the audience watched Nyx take total control, guiding the man down to his knees in front of him with nothing but a finger pressed to his lips. Watched him wriggle lean hips out of his pants until he could step out of them, boots and all. Watched him lift one muscular thigh over the kneeling man’s shoulder, and drag the front of his briefs right across his face. 

The sight may have thrown the other men into a howling, hungry mass, but Libertus felt nothing but ice replace the embers that had started to smoulder in his chest. Was this...really Nyx?  _ His  _ Nyx? This went way beyond playful flirting over a couple of drinks. This was downright  _ lewd. _

Purposeful fingers were just starting to tease the hem of his underwear when Libertus broke through the ring of spectators. “Nyx! The  _ hell _ are you doing?!” he shouted. The man on his knees titled to regard him around a faceful of crotch, but Nyx, after a caustic glare, returned his attention to his work. 

“Hey! Are you listening? I asked what you think you-”

“It’s 50 gil for 5 minutes,” came the chilliest tone he’d ever heard fall from Nyx’s lips. “I’m busy, so pay up or get out.” 

Shock left Libertus momentarily speechless. Standing in front of the crowd, watching Nyx grind against the man’s face with his fingers gripping at dark black hair - it was too much. He felt sick, his fingers clenching and unclenching against sweaty palms. And yet, he still couldn’t bring himself to stop the show. “Nyx…. Buddy, it’s me,” he tried, pleading despite the dangerous tone in his voice. “I came to ask you to come back to the bar.” 

“What part of ‘ _ pay or get lost _ ’ are you not hearing?” Anger flashed like cold steel in those familiar eyes. “I’m working. Now it’s 80 gil for my time.” 

“Eighty….  _ Six _ , man, you’re that pissed at me?!” 

One long, muscular leg arched over the kneeling man’s head to settle under Nyx’s weight. He snapped the band of his briefs back in place, gave Libertus an icy, dismissive look, and began to walk away. 

He panicked. “Alright! Shiva’s tits, fine!” His fingers nearly fumbled his wallet as he reached to pull it out of his back pocket. “Eighty gil. It’s yours, take it.” 

On cue, Nyx stopped. Their audience had yet to disperse, as wound up with anticipation at the dancer’s next move as Libertus himself. With bated breaths they watched him cross the floor, step confidently up to his friend’s chest, and accept the cash out of his outstretched hand without missing a beat. 

“Now that you understand me,” he said, unsmiling, and got a firm grip on Libertus’ shoulder. “You’ve got 5 minutes.” 

He tried. He really, truly, honest-to-gods tried to make his mouth work, but it was like fighting against a hurricane. Nyx pushed him to his knees as roughly as he’d done to the man before, and in the act Libertus' breath left him. Not just from the force of it, but from the sheer power Nyx suddenly had over him. Those eyes, so hard and angry, kept him rooted to the spot even as fingers that had never touched him so sensually shut down his brain one synapse at a time. 

They stroked from his shoulder up the side of his neck, fleeting touches like a brush of hot lips against his cheek, his ear, back down along his jawline. Ending at his chin, where they curled almost cruelly, forcing him to look, to not pull away this time. To drink in the sight of Nyx’s body, every curve and hard edge, the sheen of his skin under the lights. Libertus  _ did _ look, and he swallowed in his suddenly bone-dry throat. 

He got it now, why men came here. Why they returned again and again for this... _ thrill. _ Because that’s exactly what he was feeling in that moment, with Nyx filling every one of his senses at the same time. The heat of his thighs on either side of his face had Libertus aching for the need to touch. As did the slow, fluid motions of his hips, following both the rhythm of the distant music and a pace uniquely their own right before his eyes. It made Nyx sweat more, too, to exert such control over his body, and Libertus certainly didn’t miss the lust swelling to life between his legs. 

“Nyx, I-,” he started. Gulped, licked his lips, his eyes unable to tear from the sight of flesh hardening under thin cotton. “I gotta...tell you somethin’….” 

The response, if it could be called that, was for Nyx to slowly bend his knees, and lower himself down until Libertus’ nose brushed the hairs below his navel. 

“I...gotta….” 

Forget it. In the face of such temptation, Libertus may as well have been the biggest sinner of them all. His hands were unsteady as they ghosted up the length of Nyx’s legs, up over his hips to hover there while he contemplated where he was going to partake of first. 

Unfortunately, the decision was ripped from his grasp in an instant. Nyx smirked down at him. The anger in his eyes was now a smouldering interest, a mixture of amusement and something that told Libertus he wasn’t the only one who’d enjoyed that. 

“Time’s up,” Nyx announced, and took a step back. The air in his wake was soberingly cold. “Thanks for the tip.” 

Libertus, dazed, blinked his eyes wide as if waking from a dream. “That’s it…? W-wait, Nyx! I need to talk to you!” 

“You had your chance. Better luck next time.” Turning his back, Nyx scanned the audience as several men, sensing the opportunity, had already begun reaching for bills.

Chest tight, eyes stinging with shame, Libertus pushed himself to his feet. He couldn’t bear to watch anymore. He  _ wouldn’t _ . Anger and confusion followed behind him like a tempest as he whirled around, shoved through the crowd, and made for the exit without daring to look back.

* * *

_ Fuck, fuck, fuck!  _ The icy water was a sobering contrast against his heated skin. It ran down his face, his neck, his flushed chest, right down from his elbow to the fist squeezed tight around his cock in the shower _. _ Fingers flying fast, his breath coming in ragged gasps.  _ Fuck! _

This was all Nyx’s fault. What was he thinking, using his body like some kind of weapon of mass distraction? That tight, glistening body, warmth and musk radiating from sweat-slick skin…. 

Cursing again, Libertus slammed the palm of his free hand against cold tiles. As if the guilt of kneeling for Nyx like a fucking parishioner at worship wasn’t bad enough, now here he was getting off to the memory of it. Nyx was his  _ friend!  _ This was  _ wrong!  _ Whatever feelings he might have been holding back for him didn’t change that. 

Still he panted, and still his fist pumped his dick to the fast-paced rhythm of the songs he'd heard back at the club. When he squeezed his eyes shut, it was Nyx’s hand wrapped around his flesh. Then his lips. Then, with a final burst of imagination, it was his body, those powerful, perfect thighs locked around him and that ass - the one everyone in fucking Galahd knew was perfect - forcing the wind right out of him.

He came with all the years of pent up longing, and a growl that drowned out the sound of the water running overhead. 

Slowly, the evidence was washed down the drain at his feet. Libertus shivered as heat left him, and as his mind’s fog began to clear. It didn’t surprise him at all to find that, while the intensity of his desire was fading, Nyx was still there in the forefront of his thoughts. Of course he was, because this wasn’t over. Not, he sighed, by a long shot. 

Post-orgasmic clarity revealed to him the only choice he had left: to go back to the  _ Firaga _ and face his friend again -  _ this time _ with more of a backbone. He wouldn’t let Nyx distract him from his apology, or gouge him for money (his wallet had taken a real hit that night in the end). 

He wasn’t going to let him go.

With Crowe’s words ringing in his ear like a broken record, Libertus scrubbed his hands clean and shut off the tap. 


	4. Don't Know Down from Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Libertus gets what he wants, too. Maybe.

For the first time since its opening night, the  _ Hero's Welcome _ was closed at exactly eight o'clock. Libertus apologized in the replies he sent his friends by text.  _ A stomachache, feeling under the weather _ . Just vague enough to be believable and, he hoped, to keep them from asking too many questions. 

In reality, the only thing wrong with his stomach was his nerves, which had been twisted into knots since the night before. He hadn't slept well, either, assaulted by vague dreams in which Nyx had danced around him beneath swirling, dizzying lights. 

What the dreams - and his conscience - were trying to tell him was clear. He  _ needed _ to go back to  _ Firaga _ before his chance to make things right was gone for good. 

For the second time in as many nights, Libertus pulled his bike up in front of the poorly lit, nondescript club on the edge of town and killed the engine. He left his helmet on the seat, but didn't bother checking his reflection in the mirror. It wasn't looks, he knew now, that got him in the door of a place like this. 

"Twenty-five for members, and fifteen up front for the first drink." 

"Yeah, yeah." Libertus dropped the cash and his newly-laminated membership card into the tray. The woman with the icy stare took her time checking both. 

"Welcome back, sir. Happy to see you enjoyed yourself last night." 

He didn't answer. 

The area surrounding the bar was just as crowded as the last time, though the faces were all brand new. Libertus grabbed the only open stool at the end and ignored the handful of glances tossed his way. He wasn't interested in making friends, or whatever else they might have had in mind. He was only here for Nyx. 

Unfortunately, his early arrival meant the wait was longer than he'd expected. By the time the first performance - a young dancer whose slim, flexible body worked magic in lacy lingerie - was ending, Libertus had already polished off two glasses of whisky. A third got him through the next show, which consisted of a group of dancers alternating between grinding on the poles and grinding on each other, and a fourth for the intermission once the crowd had quieted down. 

It was after that, when the lights dimmed again and Libertus' nerves had been successfully dulled with drink, that  _ he  _ finally appeared. Not on stage, as Libertus had been expecting, but near the bar, not five feet from where he sat at the counter. 

Nyx looked… _ good.  _ Still fully dressed in a tight-fitting white shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and the collar undone down to his chest; dark jeans that sculpted his hips, his thighs. Even his hair was casual, hanging loose around his shoulders save for the braid he always wore above his right ear. 

And he was smiling. Laughing, actually, as he accepted a drink from the young man behind the bar. That more than anything had Libertus suddenly fighting back a tightness in his throat. A lump of nerves, of anticipation that no amount of whisky could soothe. Now,  _ here _ , this was his chance. 

"U-uh. Hey." Was that really his own voice? It sounded foreign, lost in the rhythmic pounding of blood in his ears as he stood. "I…." 

All words left him when Nyx turned those steely grey eyes in his direction. There was a moment of surprise, followed quickly by indignation in the furrow of his brow. Was he angry? Had it been a mistake to come here again after all? Liberus watched Nyx clutch his drink tighter, as if unsure whether to hold his ground or turn tail and run. 

"You came back." 

There were too many people between them, too much distance to be heard over the music. Despite his better judgement, Libertus took a few steps closer. "I needed to talk to you. I had to see you again." Was that…really what he wanted to say? The whisky was making his head feel heavy, and he couldn't tear his eyes away from the tease of a chain hanging from Nyx's neck. 

" _ Six,  _ Lib. I didn't think…. When you showed up last night, I figured you'd…." Nyx stopped. He swirled his drink in his hand, glanced around at the dozen or so men watching them subtly at the bar. Most of them had, it seemed, recognized the popular dancer even off duty, and were leaning closer in hopes of getting some kind of show. 

_ Like the one we put on last night,  _ Libertus swallowed. His mind was beginning to race at the mere memory of having his friend so physically close. Of his scent, his skin, the taste of sweat and lust radiating off of him in the air. Even now, he could practically sense Nyx's energy, and he took yet another step as it continued to pull him in. 

"Not here," Nyx said suddenly under his breath. Again, he glanced around, then drained his glass before he could change his mind. He said something Libertus didn't catch, then he was grabbing him by the wrist and dragging him away from the bar, across the room, past the stage. Under all the flashing lights that pulsed to the club's monotonous electronic beat. Through a set of doors that blended in with the dark paint along the back wall and into…a hallway. 

Libertus blinked. Here, removed from the music and the din of the crowded dance floor, the quiet was disorienting. So was the dim, buzzing glow of fluorescent bulbs overhead that threw him into sudden, sobering illumination. 

Backstage. They were backstage. 

"In here," Nyx continued without stopping, and led them quickly into a small storage room. There were boxes stacked in the corner, and an old office desk shoved against one wall. When Nyx, having shut and locked the door behind them, switched on the lights, only one of the bulbs actually flickered on. 

"Alright, then. Spit it out." 

Libertus stood frozen in front of him. Now that they were here, alone, he wasn't sure where to start. "Um…?" 

"I thought last night was a fluke. That maybe you showed up on accident, and that I'd fuck around and have some fun with it." A harsh sigh, and Nyx clenched his fists. "Why the hell are you here again? What is it you think you have to say that I don't already know?" 

"I, uh."  _ I want you. I need you, Nyx, more than you could ever understand. Please, come home.  _ "I'm sorry." 

"Sorry?  _ Sorry? _ And what is it you feel sorry for?" When he moved forward this time, his eyes flashed with anger, with hurt. Libertus shrank under them. He allowed Nyx to back him across the room until his legs hit the desk, and he was forced to throw his hands out for balance.

"I-I don't--"

"You're sorry for making me look like an idiot? Sorry for breaking my heart? Or maybe," Nyx growled, "You're sorry  _ for  _ me? You think I'm not happy here or something?' 

"N-no, it's not like…." 

"Then  _ what?!"  _ He was close now, so close Libertus could feel his emotions in the inches between them, tense like the silence before the roar of battle. " _ Why did you come back?" _

"'Cause I fucked up! I shouldn't've…. I never shoulda let you go. Nyx, that night, at your apartment--" 

"Stop." 

"It happened so fast, I wasn't thinking straight, and--"

" _ Shut _ .  _ Up _ ." Something else was there now, tugging downward at the corners of Nyx's mouth. Still anger, yes, but determination, too. Libertus snapped his jaw closed as the distance between them shrank to almost nothing. As the soft curve of Nyx's lips passed a hair's breadth from his own, and a shudder raced the length of his spine. He felt fingers slide over his chest through his shirt. Up to his shoulders, then the sides and back of his neck as Nyx tested the waters of this new, tumultuous sea. And he sighed his plea into the heated air. 

"Nyx, I want…." 

The temperature cranked up as he was pushed backwards onto the surface of the desk. It held his weight, creaking only when Nyx added his own on top, climbing up onto his knees to straddle Libertus' waist. His shirt fell open - when had he unbuttoned it? - and his hips swayed with a rhythm that needed no beat to guide them. 

Still, Libertus knew better than to speak. Words would have broken the spell, would have pushed Nyx away again, and that was the last thing he wanted. So he held his breath, and he  _ watched _ as Nyx set them both on fire with nothing but his body and his gaze. Rolling, rocking down, a dance that left little to the imagination - and made Libertus wish they both had far fewer clothes between them. 

Thankfully, Nyx was willing to concede on that front. As his breathing picked up, his fingers set to work undoing the belt that hung around his hips. With a  _ clink _ it fell open, inviting Libertus' gaze to the hardness trapped beneath tight denim below. If Nyx saw the way his lips trembled, or the desperation in his eyes, he said nothing. Instead slid his palm down his stomach to the bulge there, and squeezed his own hardening cock through the front of his pants. 

_ Fuck. _ Libertus' mind narrowed to a single track.  _ Fuck.  _ Heart thudding, he took the invitation for what it was.  _ Fucking fuck!  _ Maybe he swore under his breath, or maybe that was Nyx. But the second his fingertips pressed against strained denim, they both knew there would be no turning back. 

Libertus' hands shook as he worked open first the button, then the zipper of Nyx's jeans. A few well-timed hip rolls had them sliding down his thighs enough to release the heated flesh below.  _ No underwear,  _ Libertus' registered somewhere in the back of his mind. Then:  _ gods, he has a beautiful dick.  _

Like the rest of him, Nyx's cock was hard, thick but curved, and hovering deliciously within reach. Begging, almost, to be touched, and Libertus couldn't bear to deny the request. He left one hand gripping Nyx's thigh, while the other stroked out over his length to weigh it against his palm. 

"Don't you dare tease me." A low command, and Nyx rocked forward urgently into the contact. "Don't you  _ fucking _ dare, Lib." 

He swallowed, hard. With all of the intensity of Nyx's steely eyes focused on him and him alone, he gave into it. To the  _ desire _ and the  _ need _ that had laid dormant for too long in his blood, a storm brewing until at last it was allowed to rage inside him. Fueling him, curling his fingers into a fist around Nyx's pulsing flesh, touching him in ways he'd never even dared imagine before. 

The reaction was instantaneous. Above him, Nyx dropped his head forward, shut his eyes and clenched his jaw as the rest of his body took over on instinct. Each time he fucked forward into Libertus' grip, his ass dragged across the equally hard bulge in the lap beneath him. Every roll of his hips had them both shuddering, the desk creaking, the very air streaming up with the act. 

It might have lasted ten minutes, or two. Libertus spit once into his palm, and the added slick was all it took to push Nyx right over the edge into release. He came with a deep groan, eyes still clamped shut, decorating ribbons of white all over Libertus' fist, his shirt, his stomach. Marking him like no one else had ever done before.  _ Claiming him.  _ Leaving him at once breathless, and somehow feeling like the most powerful man alive. 

Several more pumps squeezed the last of the sex from the tip of Nyx's flagging cock. In that moment, Libertus was still raging hard, maybe harder than he'd ever been in his life, and if he'd had his way he would have pinned Nyx to the desk and fucked them both out of their minds right there. 

But all too soon, that perfect warmth was retreating. Nyx climbed shakily off of him, and in his wake the air cooled to a sobering halt. They were back in the club again, in a tiny storage closet that reeked of dust and sex and sweat. They were strangers again. 

"I've got to be on stage soon," came Nyx's oddly distant tone as he shoved himself back into his jeans. "You should go." 

Libertus couldn't believe his ears. He pushed himself up on the desk as far as his elbow allowed, sucked in air until he could force it into words. "…Whaddya mean,  _ 'go' _ ? I'm not leaving you here, I came to--"

"I got what I wanted. Was that not enough for you? You didn't even have to pay this time." He didn't bother looking back, instead flipping the lock on the door and opening it a crack to let in the harsh light from the hallway. Libertus thought his face looked…tired. "Go home, Lib. You don't belong in a place like this." 

"Wha-?" Conscious of the discomfort in his pants, Libertus started forward. "Neither do you, Nyx! What the hell are you even doing here, man?" 

He was silent for a long moment. Then, "Finding myself, I think. Go home." 

The door shut behind him, casting Libertus into darkness, and into doubt.


	5. Comfort for These Lonely Nights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Libertus gets dragged deeper into the game of jealousy and lies - and he makes a new friend there.

It might have been easier to let it go that night. To walk away and accept defeat, despite how much that would have hurt at first. In hindsight, Libertus almost wished he  _ had _ given up on Nyx, because at least it would have given him a sense of finality. It would have allowed him to move on. 

But deep down, he knew he wasn't ready. 

And neither, it seemed, was Nyx. 

Not two nights after that fateful visit to the club, Libertus' phone began receiving a veritable stream of messages. They were just photos, mostly, which he rightly waited to open until he was alone in the kitchen at his bar. The pics were pretty blurry, and the lighting was bad, but there was no mistaking who was in them: Nyx, dancing on stage; Nyx, dragging his fingers down his naked chest; Nyx, throat bared, with marks of someone else's teeth on his sweat-slick skin. 

At first, Libertus thought they hadn't been meant for him. A mistake, the wrong chat, so he deleted them without bothering to reply. Yet the photos kept coming. And not only that night, but every night since like clockwork. 

_ Nyx, naked in a grungy shower. Nyx, with his lust barely concealed in a pair of sleep shorts. Nyx, thighs spread and fisting his cock on the very desk where they'd… _ well _. That _ one made it clear that Nyx knew exactly what he was doing. But  _ why  _ he was insisting on playing with Libertus' emotions like a child with a broken toy, he couldn't understand. 

"What do you want from me?" he tried typing into the chat, just below the image of his friend's dick jutting hard and proud between his fingers. Libertus swore, deleted the message, tried again. "I fucking miss you." No, that wasn't right, either. What exactly was he supposed to say? Playing Nyx's game felt like playing with fire. If he slipped up, if he made the wrong move at the wrong time, he was liable to drive him away again. If he said nothing, though, the pics might stop. Or they would never stop at all, and honestly Libertus couldn't decide which fate was worse. 

So, in the end, he gave up trying to reply altogether. He left the messages on read, but the photos he saved to a private album on his phone. One that he could open at night, alone in his bed, and recall the way it had felt to have Nyx writhe on top of him. To touch himself to the memories of that sensation, that  _ voice _ so full of anger and need. Until Nyx became the sole object of his desires, an obsession he couldn't - wouldn't - let go. 

Until he became an  _ addiction _ . 

_ I need to see you _ . The words blared across the screen of his phone, the only light in the dark of his bedroom. Unsent, of course, yet Libertus still couldn't bring himself to erase them from the chat's input field. Stuck in text limbo, as uncertain as him. 

Groaning, he rolled onto his side, and shoved the phone under his pillow. He needed to try to sleep, if only to take his mind off of…things. Specifically, of the photo he'd received that night, and the vision now seared to his eyelids of Nyx licking what was quite obviously cum from the tips of his fingers. Was it his own? Someone else's? Libertus couldn't begin to guess, and that more than anything was driving him mad. The thought that at that moment, halfway across town, Nyx might be dragging some guy he didn't know into that same storage room…. 

" _ Chocobo shit _ ." He was wide awake, and already reaching back under the pillow for his phone again. The clock on the screen told him it was still just after eleven, too early to sleep, really, but too late to go out. Probably. Maybe. Like most havens of the night,  _ Firaga  _ was almost certainly still open, but…. 

No. No fuckin' way. He'd sworn off that place, hadn't stepped foot in there in almost a week now, and he wasn't keen on breaking that streak. Besides, did he  _ really _ want to risk walking in on Nyx blowing some jerkwad in a back room? 

On the other hand, he argued as he stared at the photo of familiar fingers disappearing into that tantalizing mouth, if the photos were meant for him, maybe it was Nyx's way of sending an invitation. Maybe what he really wanted to put his mouth on was….

"Shit!" he swore again. How had he let things get this bad? When had he stopped seeing Nyx as his best friend, and started hoping to stick his dick in him?! 

It was too late to regrow a conscience. Once the thought had grabbed him, there was no ignoring it. A few more minutes of fighting with his failing self-restraint before Libertus was up, showered, and getting dressed to head out. 

Nothing and everything had changed. The facade of the club was exactly as it had been, still plain and chipping paint at the edges, anything but inviting beneath flickering neon signs. The parking lot was full, and yet devoid of signs of life. 

But as Libertus swung his leg over his bike and approached the building, he knew this was different. He was not here by accident, or under some false pretense of rescuing a friend from his own mistakes. He didn't even care who might have seen him walking up to the front steps. For the first time, he had come of his own will, for the same thing every other customer came for. 

He  _ belonged _ here. 

Without a word, Libertus dropped his card and cash into the tray at the entrance. The woman studied him silently for a moment - his tight-set frown, his impatient stare - and quickly opened the door to the club. 

_ Find Nyx _ . 

That was the only thought running through his mind as he weaved through the crowd. Despite the late hour, the floor was packed with moving bodies, many unsteady after one too many drinks, or whatever else was being exchanged between hands in the dark. Someone approached Libertus, a smiling young man with round, brown eyes. Boldly, he slid his fingers inside the front of his open jacket, tightened them around the hem as if to pull him into a dance. But to his disappointment, Libertus simply kept walking past. 

Half a dozen eyes followed him to the bar, but none of them were the pair he wanted. He couldn't find Nyx  _ anywhere _ \- not on the stage, or drifting through the crowd, or hanging across the counter flirting for a drink. That was his specialty, after all, Libertus sighed. But after ten minutes of fruitless searching, he began to wonder just how many places there were to hide in a strip club.

Then he recalled the storage room, and felt his throat go dry. 

"Now  _ here's _ a guy who looks like he could use some company." 

A new face, young, congenial, took up occupancy in the open seat next to Libertus, and cast sharp brown eyes up and down his frame. "What's your name, handsome?" 

"Not interested," he snapped under his breath. But either the man didn't hear him, or he didn't care. 

"Hmm? Wait, wait. You look…familiar. I'm sure I've seen you here before. Yeah, how could I forget a face like yours?" His voice dripped with seduction, and a little of…something else. Libertus couldn't put his finger on it, but it left him feeling decidedly uncomfortable. 

It also made his new neighbor very difficult to ignore. "Listen, I'm here looking for someone I know. A…friend. I'm not interested in making any new ones." 

Beside him, the young man leaned back against the counter. As his arms pulled back, his shirt tugged snugly against the firm outline of his pecs, his abs. Libertus could count them through the fabric. "Shame. That really is too bad. Especially since it looks to me like you've been stood up." 

As Libertus turned to glare at him, he calmly ran his fingers back through the short blades of his fiery red hair. "What's  _ that  _ supposed to mean?" 

He at least had the decency to feign a sheepish smile. "Don't tell me I got it wrong? I was sure you were one of Ulric's boytoys. Ah, well. He's got so many, it's hard to keep it straight, y'know?"

"Wait." Libertus grabbed the man's shoulder before he could push away from the bar. Under his grip, those brown eyes smouldered with renewed interest. "You know Nyx? Do you know where he is?" 

"Maybe," the young man smirked. "Buy me a drink?" 

Against his better judgement, Libertus flagged over the bartender. With way eyes, he kept close watch on the younger man while he rattled off an order. Not that he appeared particularly anxious to wander off, of course. But there was something suspicious about him, something too  _ familiar _ about his mannerisms that made Libertus wonder if he was a regular, a dancer, or something worse. 

The red-haired young man winked as he accepted an electric orange cocktail from the bartender. His tongue swirled around the rim of the glass once before he rolled it across his bottom lip.  _ Temptingly _ , as if knowing exactly how to draw Libertus' attention right where he wanted it. 

"Well?" Libertus huffed.

"Well?" the young man parroted. 

Frustration thickened in the already heavy air. "Look. Just tell me where Nyx is. I don't have time for games tonight, pal."

"Tredd." 

"…What?" 

"My name's Tredd. Furia, that is. I hadn't introduced myself." He smiled, showing off those too-perfect white teeth, and leaned his weight boldly against Libertus' shoulder "And I don't know where Nyx is tonight." 

"The fu--!" He caught himself, lowered his voice to a growled whisper. "The  _ fuck? _ You said you did! Why'd you make me buy you that drink, then?" 

The man, Tredd, licked another few stray drops of alcohol from the side of his glass, then downed the rest. At the sweet taste, he let out a hum deep in his chest. " _ Mmm. I _ said 'maybe,' handsome. Last I saw, he was headed backstage with a client. Can't say where they might've gone after that. Lots of places around here to escape for a while, if you know what I mean." 

The playful brush of fingers on his thigh that followed was all but lost on Libertus. He sat motionless for a long moment, stunned by the reality that his worst fears had already come to fruition.  _ A client. Backstage. Escape.  _ Would that he found it impossible to believe. But, of course, he knew  _ exactly _ what Tredd was talking about. Nyx had given him the very same treatment, and hadn't he himself come back looking for more? How many of Nyx's other 'playthings' did the same, night after night, chasing a beautiful lie? 

And how in  _ Ramuh's beard  _ could he have been stupid enough to think he was any different?

Beside him, Tredd sensed his change in mood, and rapidly switched into the role of sympathetic shoulder to cry on. "Hey, there, big man. Don't take it too hard. Guys like Nyx, they  _ thrive  _ on the attention, the desperation of their fans, y'know?" He scooted closer to the edge of his seat, leaned into him until Libertus could smell the sweet liquor clinging to pouting lips. "But it doesn't mean you have to leave here empty handed. Nyx isn't the only thing on the menu tonight." 

Another caress of fingers on Libertus' thigh emphasized his meaning. They lingered there, testing, and when they weren't immediately batted away, Tredd squeezed just a little for effect. 

"...Not interested," Libertus said again, though this time his voice had lost its conviction. 

Tredd merely hummed. "And why not? You think  _ he's _ gonna care if you have a little fun without him? Come on…." Getting to his feet, Tredd set his empty glass on the counter. His fingers slid purposefully up Libertus' leg, over his hip, his stomach, coming at last to rest near the center of his aching chest. "How about a little dance to show you what I mean? After all, you  _ did _ already pay for my first drink." 

Libertus could have resisted, probably. The kid was younger than him by a good eight or ten years, and lean everywhere he was broad. It wouldn't have taken much to dissuade him from shimmying into the space between parted thighs and pivoting lithly. From rubbing his palms greedily over Libertus' thighs as he rolled and gyrated his ass against his lap. Sure, Libertus  _ could _ have stopped him, but what would be the point? Nyx certainly wasn't coming to take his place anytime soon. Maybe ever again. To Nyx, Libertus knew now that he was nothing but a chump, a toy to be played with and tossed aside again when he got bored. What was the point in even trying to get back up? 

"Hey," Tredd coiled around until his lips brushed Libertus' ear. His breath was a hot, sweet distraction. "You can touch me if you want. I wanna feel those strong hands of yours on my body."

_ Gods _ . To hell with it, Libertus thought. To hell with Nyx, with being the 'good guy.' He'd given up that front when he'd walked into a strip club that night looking for more than just conversation. So what if it came from this brash kid he'd only just met? That was the thrill of all this, wasn't it? Just another face, just another game…. 

The music faded into the background as he gripped his hands tight around lean hips, and let Tredd push every last thought of Nyx right out of his mind. 


	6. Further from the Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Libertus orders a _cocktail_ , but gets a tall, cold glass of sober-up juice instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the record, I love Tredd - I also love writing him as a total piece of shit.

When had they ended up here? After the third drink, or the fourth? Libertus couldn't remember, and his head was fuzzy where his blood supply had long since flowed south. Or maybe it was because of the lips slowly pulling him apart, one graze of soft, tempting warmth over his throat at a time. 

They weren't Nyx's lips, of that he was certain. But it was almost possible, in the dark of the dressing room, to  _ pretend _ they were. To pretend the body beneath his palms belonged to his best friend, and not some stranger who tasted like sex and cocktails. 

Tredd wasn't Nyx, but he could do the job. 

" _ Man,  _ you are _ all muscle _ under there, huh?" Greedy hands beneath Libertus' shirt squeezed again. "You gonna show me what you're really made of, hunk?" 

Even in the dark, even achingly hard and more than a few sheets to the wind, Libertus rolled his eyes at that. "Maybe don't talk so much and I will," he retorted gruffly. It was hard to keep up the illusion when the damn kid wouldn't shut up. Yet while his heart told him that was for the best, his dick, which was currently running this show, insisted on the make believe.

"Sure, sure. Whatever you're into," Tredd purred into his ear. His voice was noticeably slurred now, evidence of his own degree of intoxication, as he started working open Libertus' belt. There was no ceremony to it. A few rough tugs, fingernails grazing his stomach above his jeans. And then the pressure that had been building steadily for the last half hour was released into the air. 

"Fuck," Libertus swore. He tried not to focus on the unfamiliar fingers curling around his cock through the cloth. "Take it easy, wouldya?" 

"I thought you liked it a little  _ rough,  _ handsome." 

"Just…fuckin'…." Tredd squeezed him hard enough to send his toes curling. A teasing touch, and he didn't dare admit how hot he really thought it was. Of course, that the sudden leak of precum pooling against the kid's palm was probably a dead giveaway. "Put that mouth of yours to use already." 

" _ Mmm _ , anything you say." 

The temperature in the room spiked. Fiery red locks, stiff with too much hair gel, tickled his stomach as Libertus guided Tredd into place. Cool air kissed his skin, was swallowed up again just as suddenly by scorching hot lips. Sensations radiated up, up, in a dizzying rush, threatening to throw him off balance, and Libertus shut his eyes against the barrage. 

_ Six,  _ it felt amazing. He wanted so desperately to give in to the pleasure of that experienced mouth. Sucking him, swallowing him down with such enthusiasm. But what his body craved more, his heart repelled. It felt so good, and yet  _ so wrong _ at the same time.

Who was this dumb kid on his knees in front of him? He barely knew him. They shouldn't be doing this.

_ Nyx. I miss you... _ . 

Heart and body fighting for dominance, he tightened his fingers in unfamiliar red hair. Knotted his brows, tried to focus only on the physical. But his hips stuttered with hesitation as his stomach twisted into guilty knots. 

_ Not like this. I just can't do it. _

With a groan of frustration, Libertus pulled Tredd off of him by the roots of his hair. "S-stop. Stop, just stop!" 

"What's the problem, big guy?" Tredd, noticeably breathless, struggled out of his grasp to run his tongue along thick flesh again. "You gonna blow early? It's fine, I don't charge extra unless you get cum in my hair." 

"Stop, just get away from me!" 

"Woah…! The fuck, dude?"

Hastily shoving his flagging cock back into his pants, Libertus elbowed past Tredd in an attempt to get to the door, to get  _ out _ , as far away as possible. The room was spinning, his panicked heart racing a mile a minute. If he didn't get some fresh fucking air soon, he was going to puke. 

"Hey. _ HEY!"  _ A pair of hands grabbed for him, latched onto his jacket and spun him back around. There was fury in Tredd's bright eyes when he spoke. "You fucking owe me for the blow job." 

_ Huh!? _ Libertus shook his head against another dizzying wave of nausea. "What? I thought…. I mean, I didn't even finish and…." 

"You think I give a fuck? My mouth ain't free parking for your dick, and it  _ ain't _ my problem if  _ you _ got issues keeping it up." 

"But you came on to  _ me! _ " 

Those lips, no longer curved in a flirtatious smile but deadly serious, pressed together in a flat line. "Remember where you are, Ostium. That's right, I know exactly who the fuck you are. And so does the boss. We've been keeping tabs on everything around here. You  _ really  _ want me to tell him you've started taking advantage of his precious goods? You wanna see what happens when Captain Drautos gets angry?" 

"Fuck.  _ Fuck."  _ His fingers were shaking as he reached into his pocket. Not out of fear, but of anger. Anger at Tredd. Anger at himself. Anger at Nyx for fucking with his head so bad he couldn't even get off when he was paying for it. He grabbed blindly for the rest of his cash and shoved the bills hard into Tredd's chest. "Just take it! And maybe lead with that next time,  _ fuck! _ " 

"A _ -hem _ . Pleasure doing business with you, sir." That once again sickly sweet tone sent Libertus' stomach reeling anew. It was all an act, of course, he could see it clearly now. So obvious only a complete fool could have fallen for it in the first place. 

Well, call him King Fool, then. 

He tore from the room and down the blindingly bright hall, not stopping to look back even after he'd reached the crowded dance floor once more. The flashing lights, the trance-like music, the formless crowd enveloped him, and he gasped on shallow breaths of heated air. 

Coming here had been a mistake. A  _ total _ mistake, he growled, mentally kicking himself as he slunk through the throng. He should have fucking stayed home. He never should have gotten out of bed. He should have stayed away for good the first time, because now it wasn't only his heart that was aching with disappointment. 

Again his stomach lurched, and he wondered darkly if things could possibly get any worse. 

"Libertus?" 

Oh, no. 

Oh,  _ hells _ no. 

Shame burned red on his cheeks. Rooted to the spot, he didn't dare turn to face the source of the voice. He  _ couldn't _ look Nyx in the eyes, couldn't even unclench his jaw to speak. How was he supposed to trust his own words to come out right? 

Oblivious, Nyx circled around to meet him instead. "Lib? I've been looking all over for you. I saw your bike out front, but you weren't at the bar, so...." 

Libertus continued to watch the strobe lights paint swirling, confusing patterns across the floor. They were making it difficult to process what he was hearing. Nyx…had been waiting for him…? 

"Why didn't you text me you were coming tonight? You okay? Libertus?"

"I'm sorry…." 

"Sorry? For what? It's fine, you didn't do anyth--" 

"I fucked up, Nyx. Real bad this time," he groaned, and at last lifted his gaze through a veil of biting, bitter tears. "This...was a mistake." 

Nyx's face fell. Part in confusion and part in whatever meaning he'd chosen to read from that. He shoved his hands into his jean pockets, shifted uncomfortably between his feet. "Oh. I see. I get it." 

"...I should go." 

"Sure." 

Nyx stepped aside for him to pass, Libertus dragged his weight numbly to the exit. Right past the front counter, not bothering to reclaim his cards, and out of the club. Straight to the corner of the parking lot, where he heaved all the guilt and whiskey and self-loathing onto the concrete beside a filthy dumpster. 

There, in the shadows, he slumped down to ride out the lingering waves of nausea. Eventually, he'd have to make the long journey home. Eventually, he'd have to sober up, and truly face the consequences of what he'd done. 

But for now, at least a little longer, he deserved to rot here alongside the rest of the trash. 


	7. This Could Be Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Forgiveness - like love - is always an option.

The  _ Hero's Welcome  _ was anything  _ but _ welcoming that night. The lights were on, the beer was still cold, but the humor had been squeezed out of the very atmosphere of the place. Even the walls seemed to creak and sigh with the weight of heavy burdens. And at the center of it all, Libertus. 

Truth be told, he hadn't wanted to open the bar at all that night. How could he pretend to be fine, to drink and laugh with friends when so much of his life was collapsing around him? He couldn't fake being happy, any more than he could fake the reason for his foul mood in front of his closest friends. 

Especially Crowe. 

She'd always had a penchant for reading him. All of them, really, which was part of what had made her so good on the battlefield, too. Nothing got past her, and she knew how to tactfully handle even the most complex of situations. Sometimes, it felt like she couldn't quite keep her nose out of problems. But it was precisely because of that she'd saved all of their lives - quite literally - on more than one occasion. 

So now, when she sat across from Libertus tapping her finger thoughtfully against the rim of her beer glass, he did his best not to cower away from her stare. 

"Are you going back to see him?" she said, abruptly out of the silence. Libertus couldn't help but wince. Of course. He hadn't even needed to mention Nyx's name for Crowe to see right through him. 

"If by 'back' you mean to that skeezy club across town…. No. I don't think I can." 

"Mm." For a long while, that was all she said. Further down the table, their other friends - Pelna, Luche - were chatting in hushed voices. Probably eavesdropping, the damn gossips, but at this point Libertus couldn't really care less. 

How many days had it been since his last trip to  _ Firaga _ ? Since the mistake of a lifetime in the form of sweet lips and even sweeter lies had brought any chances he'd had left with Nyx to a grinding halt. A week, maybe less? Time had begun to blur together in the numb moments between waking and sleeping again, so that Libertus now only found respite from his own guilt in dreams.

"Alright. So text him," Crowe continued again once her analysis had concluded. "Most things are better said in person, of course, but you're both stubborn asses and so we've got to get creative. Give me your phone." 

Libertus balked. "What?! Not a chance in hell, Crowe. He doesn't want to hear it anyway, trust me." 

"Oh yeah? What makes you so sure he's that pig-headed?" 

"Because he hasn't…talked to me in days." It might not have made a convincing argument to her, but for Libertus, who'd been on the receiving end of an almost endless barrage of selfies and dick pics for the better part of the week before, the sudden radio silence was telling. "I really messed up this time. He's got every right to be pissed."

"Uh huh. I'm sure he'd love the way you're putting words in his mouth now." 

His reply was a grunt. Neither committal nor dismissive, but more in defeat. He honestly wished Crowe would drop it already. There was nothing she or anyone could do now to set things right. He just needed time. Time to…move on. 

"Hey, Lib. You got anymore Blue Crystal?" Down the table, Pelna held up an empty glass bottle and shook it a few times for effect. 

"Yeah, yeah. Hold yer birds." 

"Make it three, will ya?" Libertus raised a curious eyebrow at him. "Invited a friend, he should be here soon." 

Great. More customers, just what he needed tonight. So much for closing up early. 

"Whatever. Comin' right up. Put the empty ones in the bin, wouldya?" 

The work, at least, would keep him occupied, distracted. And going to dig fresh bottles out of the fridge in the back served as a convenient excuse to slip away from Crowe, as well. Anything for a brief respite from those judging eyes that could read him like an open harlequin novel.  _ Ugh. _

Rounding the bar counter, he disappeared through the short door that separated the main pub from the kitchen, and immediately slumped back against the wall with a sigh. 

_ Just a quick break _ , he told himself. Enough to compose his spiraling thoughts before he had to go back out there, wearing a damned painted-on smile.  _ Deep breath, here we go. Hold it...hold it…. _

It was then, while he was aching to feel that familiar burn in his lungs, that he heard the front door of the bar swing open. Libertus had never bothered to hang a chime above it - that had always seemed so cliche, like something out of a sitcom - but the voices of his friends rang out in greeting instead. " _ Welcome back! _ " came Pelna's unbridled cheeriness. Next was Luche. " _ We'd just about given up on seeing you again, hero."  _

Oxygen fled him like air from a popped balloon. Libertus remained frozen, pressed to the wall as he listened close.  _ No _ . There was no way. They wouldn't have…!

"Thanks, guys. Still drunk and rowdy as every, I see. I can always count on some things to never change." Crap! No doubt about it, he knew that voice better than his own! But why would he…!? Libertus gripped the edge of the nearest counter to stop himself from sneaking a peek out there. 

Luche, it seemed, was ready with an answer. "I wouldn't say that. It's been…different without you around." 

"Yeah," Pelna agreed. "Lib's been a wreck trying to manage this place on his own." 

A pause. He could hear a familiar boot tapping on the floorboards. "That right? Speaking of…. Is he off tonight?" 

"Nah. He's just avoiding you in the kitchen. Pelna didn't warm him you were coming," Crowe said into her drink. Libertus didn't need to see her face to picture the smirk written there. "Hurry and catch him before he climbs out the window." 

The window! That was it! Without a second thought, Libertus raced to the far wall of the kitchen, where his escape hung above the sink under a set of yellowed curtains. Sealed shut with disuse, of course, but a few good tugs on the pane had it sliding open a crack or so.  _ Come on, come on,  _ he urged, gritting his teeth as he shoved one foot through the gap.  _ Think thin, man!  _

"Lib…?" 

_ Well, shit.  _ Libertus paused with one leg raised above the sink, and turned his strained smile over one shoulder. "Uh. Nyx, hey. Didn't, uh, expect to see you here." 

Steely, calculating eyes looked from him, to the window, and back. "Uh-huh. Mind coming down so we can talk?" 

Carefully, hesitantly, he disentangled himself from the curtains and lowered his feet back into the floor. It was still hard, even after all the hours he'd spent alone in his apartment practicing an apology, to look Nyx in the eyes, so he focused instead somewhere in the vicinity of the wall behind him. "You, uh. Aren't working tonight?" 

"At the club, you mean?" He stepped forward, stopped when he saw Libertus flinch away. "Nah. I'm not sure I wanna go back there, really. It was fun, for a while. But it…kinda lost its appeal." 

"You seemed happy there." 

"I was free, that's not exactly the same thing." For only the second time in all the years they'd known each other, Libertus thought Nyx looked...lost. Like he was searching for an answer he wasn't sure where to find, or if it even existed at all. "Why'd you  _ really  _ stop coming to see me?" 

"Oh. I, uh…."  _ Damn.  _ He'd practiced, and practiced this. Over and over, all the  _ I'm sorrys  _ and the _ I fucked ups,  _ the _ please forgive mes _ as he begged on his knees. But that practice failed him now. Libertus stood rooted, speechless, his hands hanging uselessly at his sides. "I…."

"Is it because of Tredd?" Nyx was starting directly into him now, seemingly unafraid of whatever answer he expected to hear. 

Libertus gulped,  _ hard.  _ "You… _ know _ about that?" 

"Yeah, 'course I do. Tredd talks, the little shit, and he's never liked me. I figure it was Drautos who put him up to it that night." Now that he had Libertus' full attention, Nyx risked a few steps closer. "Everyone there could see it. They knew how I felt about you, and they also knew I was talking about quitting that place. Guess they thought that by chasing you away, they'd rope me into sticking around or something." 

"W-wait…. That little  _ punk _ was just playing me?" 

"Like an accordion, bro," Nyx confirmed with a sad smile. "Or maybe like a  _ trombone _ , the way he tells the story." 

There was a pointed look at Libertus' crotch, and he quickly snatched up a nearby rag to cover himself, while his cheeks bore the brunt of the embarrassment. 

"Y-yeah, well! It's not like I intended for any of that to happen. I went to the club that night looking for  _ you _ , y'know." 

"I know." 

"And then Tredd said you were off fucking some other guy, so I--" 

"He said that?" Slowly, Nyx shook his head. "That's what this is really all about, isn't it? You were jealous. You've been jealous this whole time." 

_ What? No, I… _ , he started to say, but the words lodged in his throat. 

Nyx continued, his eyes growing sharper along with his tongue. "You rejected me when my feelings were inconvenient, and then you were angry I'd go to anyone else to get what I wanted." 

"Listen, when you put it like that…." 

"I don't care about Tredd, man. You were used, and yeah, that sucks. But it wasn't your fault. What I don't understand is why you _ still _ can't admit to me how you really feel.  _ Six,  _ Lib!" Surging forward, Nyx grabbed the front of his shirt in both hands. Pulled him closer, close enough to see the hurt, the need, the  _ hope _ in his eyes. "Just tell me you want me and I'm yours!" 

"I do want you, Nyx! So fucking much it hurts!" 

Silence fell. The only sounds were the distant clicking of glasses out in the pub, and the rapid  _ th-thump _ of his own heart pounding in his ears. Libertus dragged in a breath. In front of him, Nyx still stood with his fingers clenched around fistfuls of shirt. Wary, as if he were still waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

So Libertus spelled it out as best he could. "I  _ want _ you, I always have. I never thought...I guess I never imagined you'd feel the same way, and I'd given up on even hoping it could work. That night, when you tried to kiss me…. I chalked it up to too much beer, or that maybe I was just a second or third choice when you couldn't find someone else. I…. I was convinced I could never be good enough for you."

"You big, dumb asshole," Nyx whispered, lips shaking on the cusp of a smile. "How can you be so thoughtful and so dense at the same time?" 

" _ Um? _ " 

"I didn't think I was being subtle at all, Lib." 

He thought back to all those nights of winning smiles, of jokes he'd assumed were meant in jest. Glances he'd never allowed himself to believe could be meant for him. And he sighed. "You're my best friend. No, you're more than that. You're the closest thing I've got to family, aside from those bozos out there," his voice cracked. "I've been so scared of losing that. " 

"Yeah, well. What's wrong with having a best friend who loves you with all his heart?" 

Libertus met Nyx's eyes then. They were deep, so deep, and more beautiful than he'd ever remembered. Not the eyes of his childhood dreams, or even of dark memories on the battlefield. Not the eyes of the dancer whose body and voice had entranced him on that stage. These were the eyes of  _ Nyx Ulric _ , a man who could be all of those things at once and more. 

The fingers in his shirt relaxed, until the flats of Nyx's palms came to rest on his chest. Libertus, too, let his shoulders relax again. His arms moved almost of their own will, up to hesitantly encircle the waist leaning against him. When Nyx didn't pull away, he tightened them into an embrace. 

"Maybe we've both been making mistakes for too long. Avoiding saying what we really feel." His words, just for them, drew Nyx in closer - temptingly close - to his lips. "But the truth of it is, I've got it  _ bad _ for you, hero." 

"I can  _ tell _ , you big lug. So. Whaddya say we give this  _ thing _ between us a shot, then?" 

"You, me, and that counter over there?" 

Though Nyx humored him enough to follow his gaze to the cabinets beside the kitchen stove, he laughed it off. "Flattering, really. But to avoid health code violations and, uh,  _ prying ears _ , how about we go back to my place? Y'know, for real this time." 

"Right now?"

"Leave Crowe in charge for the night. I'll help you clean up the mess in the morning." 

Libertus swallowed at the implications. Suddenly, the body in his arms was distractingly warm and deliciously solid. "Yeah, sure. Anything for you, Nyx."

Across his friend's face, a grin spread like the slow unveiling of secret lingerie. "You know that's what I like to hear."


	8. Deep Down I Always Knew

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes the reward is worth the wait ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy the smutty, happy, smutty ending!

It was cramped. Nyx's apartment wasn't huge, a narrow studio on the edge of downtown, the cheapest one he could find. For a young bachelor who spent most of his waking hours out, and only a few hours actually sleeping in his own bed, the space was more than enough. But to Libertus….

" _ Oof!  _ Six, man, I thought you were gonna throw out the damn couch," he groaned, already feeling the bruise forming on the back of his calf where he'd nearly tripped over the gaudy piece of furniture. 

Nyx, however, merely grinned against his mouth. "Shut up and have a seat already." 

"This thing's a deathtrap. Don't tell me we're gonna…?" In the near dark, Libertus didn't see the hands moving towards him, not until he was being pushed backward to land, ass first, on the cushions. Nyx wasted no time climbing up into his lap. 

"I figure it's a start, yeah?" He pulled his shirt up over his head, and the moonlight from the only window cast his bare chest in a brilliant glow. "Heat things up a little, see where it leads." 

"S-sure. No rush, amirite?" But his voice said otherwise. His words turned to sighs, then to impatient groans as Nyx resumed kissing over his throat.  _ New _ was certainly a good word for the sensations rippling between them. Even back at the club, on the desk in that storage room, things hadn't been quite like this. Charged, electrified, but also unhurried. Lingering touches that sparked pleasure everywhere those experienced lips marked his skin. Another, more distant tingling where Nyx's hands roved over his stomach through his shirt. And then there where his own fingers, which twitched with energy, hooked as they were through Nyx's belt loops and hungry for what lay beneath. 

He didn't need to be told, thankfully, what he was meant to do next. But still he held back, too distracted by the tongue now lapping over his jawline, or perhaps, at least subconsciously, still slave to his fears.  _ Let it go _ , he told himself.  _ He wants this, too.  _

"Lib?" 

"Mmh?" 

"You gonna take these pants off me, or do I gotta do it myself?" 

_ Fuck.  _ Well, now that the offer was on the table, so to speak…. "I wanna watch you do it," he found himself admitting. "For old time's sake." 

Nyx said nothing, but he smiled as he slid himself backwards off the couch again. Stood, stretching each of his muscles in turn, to flip on the floor lamp next to where Libertus still sat. And, once he was certain his audience's eyes had nowhere else to roam, he started dancing. 

Again, it was different from the club, though Libertus would be lying if he said it wasn't still dripping with sex appeal. Nyx leaned back, letting his hips jut forward and his abs catch in the light. He undid his belt slowly, never with any hint of impatience. Let it clatter to the carpet, forgotten for now, to focus next on the button and zipper of his jeans.  _ Gods _ , he made it look good. Libertus growled deep in his throat. How had he let himself resist this for so long?

Beneath Nyx's jeans were a pair of short, dark briefs. Under those,  _ well….  _ The shadows hugged the curve of his hard cock, outlining it even through the fabric and accentuating the weight. A weight that Libertus knew intimately now, and which he longed to hold in his palm again. 

As Nyx's hips swayed in the lamp light, Libertus dropped to his knees on the carpet in front of the couch. 

"Mind sharing?" 

The laugh he earned in return spoke volumes. "If you think you can handle it." He stepped forward, one knee coming up to rest in the cushions at Libertus' back. "I gotta say, it sure took you long enough to figure out what you want." 

The front of those briefs brushed against his lips, and he shivered from his head down to the tips of his toes. "Sorry for makin' you wait." 

"Mmh," Nyx hummed. His head tipped back as eager, thick fingers slid under tight fabric, gripped him with the same intensity as Libertus' eyes that watched him from below. "I guess, in the end, you're pretty worth it." 

The answer came in the form of hot lips enclosing him through his briefs. 

Now that Libertus' hands had found purchase, they were loathe to let go. Even after he'd peeled the fabric down to take Nyx fully into his mouth, he left his fingers dancing over heated skin. Up lean thighs, around to grip the softer flesh of Nyx's ass - and,  _ yeah _ , it really was a fantastic one. He held him tighter, pulled him in closer until the back of his throat ached with the effort, and finally only released him when rough fingers tugged his hair back by the roots. 

"Where in the name of the Six did you learn to do that?" Nyx demanded, noticeably breathless, as he swayed on his feet. His cock slipped from Libertus's mouth heavier than before, the tip dripping with more than just saliva. 

Yet he didn't bother to wait for an explanation. Those same fingers in his hair guided him up to his feet again, and back against Nyx's lips. He kissed Libertus hard, drove his tongue in deep to taste himself there, while meanwhile his hands worked in tandem to divest him of too many clothes. 

Stripped, dizzy for want of air, Libertus obeyed every wordless command without hesitation. He let Nyx push him back down onto the sofa, and reached out to guide lean legs to either side of his lap. He kissed Nyx everywhere he could reach - his lips, his neck, his chest - while their hands brought both of their cocks together in the space between. Already, Nyx was so slick, so close to the edge. His voice fell around them like a plea as he fucked into Libertus' fist, as he braced himself against familiar shoulders and buried his moans into his hair. 

" _ Fuck, fuck…! S-slow down…!"  _

Too late. One final twist of Libertus' wrist brought him to the point of no return, and with a shuddering groan he came. His whole body tightened, his hips stuttered forward. The sounds he made as he fell apart were like music, soft, breathy notes hung on a chord of tension. Followed by the rapid but rhythmic beating of his heart in the aftermath of climax, vibrating the very air. 

This time when he pulled away, he used the momentum to drag Libertus with him. 

They didn't speak, they didn't need to. Nyx dropped the act of playfulness now, replaced it with a raw hunger that drew Libertus after him toward the bedroom. Once, overwhelmed with a need of his own, Libertus caught up to him in the hallway. Grabbed him by the waist and pushed him against the hard wall, instantly diving in to devour his neck, his throat, any part of skin his mouth could get to. He _ needed _ him, couldn't last without him now that he'd had a taste. But Nyx, as usual, was determined to carry out his plan. 

"Bed,  _ now," _ he commanded simply, and grabbed him by the wrist again to pull him through the door. 

Libertus was pushed onto the mattress against the far wall of the room. He landed with a grunt, one which was quickly swallowed up by hungry lips sealing over his own. Nyx climbed onto him without ceremony. Dug his knees into the sheets at either side of his hips, and ground his wet, half hard cock down against him. 

So, this was it, then. This was how he was going to die, the life fucked right out of him by the most beautiful man he'd ever known. All in all, not a bad way to go. As Nyx rocked his hips down again, Libertus gave up another ounce of control. Then another, and another, until he was completely at the mercy of the body pinning him to the bed. His pleasure, his breath, his attention, all belonged to Nyx, and Nyx alone. 

"You got any condoms?" Nyx asked suddenly, his ragged voice so close and so distant at the same time. Though Libertus heard him, it took repeating the question before he finally shook his head in answer. "Damn. Me, either…. You mind?" 

"Wh…? Huh?" 

"Focus, Lib. I'm telling you I'm gonna bareback your dick like a wild chocobo in about two seconds, are you cool with that?" His bright eyes faltered ever so slightly in the dim light. "I'm clean. I promise. Drautos made us get checked whenever we…. Nevermind. You good?" 

"U-uh, yeah." Without thinking, Libertus reached up to stroke the soft curve of Nyx's cheek, and was almost surprised when he nuzzled into the touch. "I'm clean, too. I haven't…. Not with anyone else since…. Well, y'know, except for--" 

"I swear to the gods, Lib, if you say Tredd's name while your dick is inside me, I'm going to strangle you."

"G-got it. Shutting up." 

He wasted very little time after that. Mouth expertly distracted against Libertus' own, he prepped himself quickly with spit-slick fingers. Libertus tried to help, honest. But the second his hands did anything more than squeeze around the pert mounds of Nyx's ass, they were swatted away again. It was clear Nyx knew what he was doing, and was perfectly fine handling himself. 

Maybe that was the point. 

Maybe that, Libertus thought as determined fingers positioned the head of his cock against tight muscles, was what Nyx had been trying to tell him all along. The club. The dancing. The showing off. Even now, sliding down onto his length, lips parted and eyes shut but never once yielding control, Nyx was proving that the only one in charge of his choices was him. 

And that despite or perhaps because of everything between them, he'd  _ chosen _ Libertus. 

Thick fingers tightened around powerful thighs. As realization washed over him on the crest of pleasure, Libertus fixed his gaze on Nyx's face. On the way his eyebrows drew together and his lip trembled with each shuddering moan. The way his tongue flicked out to catch a bead of sweat as it rolled down his cheek. The way his eyes slowly opened, then blinked wide when he saw the depths of the attention already focused on him. " _ Lib _ ."

"You're fuckin'  _ gorgeous _ , y'know." 

A smile. Shy, approving. Nyx dropped his hips hard enough to knock the wind from Libertus' chest, and hummed at the pressure inside hitting him just right. "I know," he half-gasped, half-groaned. "'Bout time you figured it out, too." 


End file.
